


Fell Asleep With The Stars, Woke Up In The Snow

by GhostCrumpet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Train Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-10-06 14:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10336718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCrumpet/pseuds/GhostCrumpet
Summary: After breaking up with Ian, Darcy takes a sabbatical from wrangling Jane to travel around the country. You never know who you'll meet on the train but there's always a guarantee of a few things: someone's going to get left behind, and you'll run into at least a few people who're enlisted in the military.Takes place after AOU. Will not be 100% canon compliant but will skate alongside canon politely. It may even take canon out for dinner and a movie, but won't be going back to canon's place afterwards.





	1. All Aboard

**Author's Note:**

> God I missed this story. You guys did too. Time to bring it back.

There wasn't anything quite like curling up in your own private room on a cross-country train, Darcy thought as she tucked her bags onto the upper bunk in the tiny roomette, before pushing the bunk up as far as it would go to give herself some more headroom. It was the second to last leg of her trip, that had taken her zigzagging through the American countryside on a journey to mend her heart. She poked her head out of the door to her room and looked across the hall to see if she'd have any company, but the adjacent roomette was empty of personal effects still. So far the lower floor of the sleeper cabin was empty, although she'd seen some travellers and a young family with the most adorable toddler ever on the upper floor. The trip out she'd been surrounded by young, happy Mennonite couples playing Uno, which had made her feel a little self conscious about being a female, and travelling alone. Jane had been appalled at the idea of her going off, _on her own_ , but Darcy had pointed out that she needed the time, to herself.

With a sigh, she settled down onto one of the seats, kicked her shoes off and propped her feet up on the opposite chair. It had made sense to spring for a room for this last part. Jane was doing a series of talks as soon as Darcy got back, and it was hard to be really well rested in the economy cabin where the chairs wouldn't quite lay flat and there was always a sad baby projecting its distress. Even with her sleep mask, ear plugs, and sleeping bag that she'd roll herself into, she never quite got a full night's sleep. And this way she could get a shower, get in some prep work for the upcoming college tour with Jane in peace and solitude. She pulled the pleated privacy curtain across her doorway as the train started to move out of Portland's Union Station. The gentle sway of the car on the tracks eased her nerves a little. She didn't want to go back, being away from home for the past month had been the best thing she could have done for herself, putting distance between her and- a sudden noise in the hallway interrupted her thoughts.

“The communal shower isn't working, but your room has it's own private shower and that is working. There's instructions on the wall, but if you have any questions let me know. Will you need me to turn down the beds for you later this evening, gentlemen?” The sleeper car attendant was a woman this time, short and efficient she'd settled Darcy into her roommette in the space of a few minutes, and was doing the same with the new arrivals as well. The train bumped over a hitch in the track and the curtain swung out, giving Darcy a peek at who was checking into the room next to hers. Two men stood there in the narrow hallway, their shoulders almost as broad as the hall was wide. She raised an eyebrow. Never hurt to see eye candy on the train since it was mostly elderly couples enjoying the twilight years, albeit since their backs were to her, she couldn't scope out the front to see if it matched the tight way they filled out their shirts and jeans. She looked down at her phone to send a quick text to Jane, as the curtain swung back and blocked the hall from view again. Her cheeks were burning slightly. Her brain was really going to go there after what had happened with Ian? _Shame on you, Darcy Lewis,_ she practically hear her mother say.

“No I think we should be fine, thank you anyway though ma'am,” said one of the men.

“Alright then. You just pull the call button if you need anything, _anything_ , and I'll be right along to help you. Should be fairly quiet as there's only one other passenger on this floor and we're not picking anybody else up in the sleepers unless someone decides they're sick of economy and wants to upgrade. Dinner'll be at 6:30pm, and you just go upstairs and walk along the five cars to the dining car. See you both in a bit.” The attendant's footsteps faded down the hall and up the stairs. A gusty sigh penetrated through her privacy curtain.

“Stuck on a damn tin can for two and a half days. My idea of a good time,” the second man said with a hint of snark in his voice. There was a shuffling noise, and then a scraping, and Darcy could only assume they were getting their things settled.

“There's nothing wrong with taking the train. It's like an adventure. You always wanted to take a train trip like this when-” said the first, the one who'd thanked the attendant.

“That was all you, I was happy enough to be stuck in Brooklyn,” She heard a door open and then slam shut within their room. “But you know what's also gonna be an adventure? Seein' you try to cram yourself into this shower. Better learn how to duck, Steve.”

“Aw, it's not that bad, Buck-” the door opened again and she heard the disappointed sigh in the first man's voice. She felt a smile tuck up in the corners of her mouth and she shook her head. Trains weren't meant for giants, or men who were shaped like Doritos. That ass to shoulder ratio they were both packing... well, it was probably a bit much. “Maybe I shouldn't have been so stubborn and taken Stark up on his offer of the jet. I just thought it might be fun to take the train.”

“I'm gonna tell him you said that. He won't shut it for a week. Let's go check out the lounge car, since you're all keen on the train, maybe we can scope out some birds or something.” She lifted her head as their door snapped shut and the sound of them died down in the corridor. With a long sigh she shifted her chair into a more reclined position and pulled her blanket up. Dinner wasn't for a few more hours, and maybe she could squeeze in a nap before then. She clicked the overhead light off, tucked her glasses into the little net bag stuck to the side wall, and closed her eyes.

***

A tap on the edge of her door woke her up and she jerked, sending her phone flying across the small space to land on the opposite chair.

“Miss Lewis? You've got a dinner reservation? Did you need anything before you go on up to car five?” The attendant was standing just outside the door and Darcy grabbed her glasses, crammed them on her face then pushed the privacy curtain back. How many hours had she napped for? The sun was setting outside her window.

“Oh, no, no I'm all good,” she said, standing up and smiling sheepishly at the attendant. The woman eyed her a little and then smiled back.

“You might think to um, fixing your hair before you go on up. You'll have company at your table tonight,” she said, looked pointedly at the mirror, and then left. Darcy looked at her reflection and grumbled, trying to tame down her frizzing curls unsuccessfully. With a final sigh she pulled her hair back into a messy bun, considered it done, and started the long, stumbling walk to the dining car.

One of the waiters brought her to her table, and she ordered a water before sitting looking out the window.

“Best way to view the country, right?” a voice over her shoulder made her jump a little, her hand going tight around her glass of water. She looked up and swallowed – it was one of the corn chip twins, all blonde hair and blue eyes with criminally thick lashes. Darcy swallowed the jealous lump in her throat about those lashes. Some things just weren't fucking fair. He looked familiar too, and gave her that odd sense of deja vu where she knew she'd seen him before, but just couldn't quite place him... and if she stared at him any longer the way she'd been doing, he'd think she was mute, or maybe a little stupid. “Just gonna squeeze in next to you there-” He tucked himself in next to her and she shifted up the bench seat a little, squishing into the wall as much as she could. There was no way she was spending a whole meal with her thigh pressed up against a strange guy's, no matter how nice his- _holy hell_ \- biceps were.

“Uh, hi, nice to meet you,” she mumbled and then took a sip of water, “I'm Darcy Lewis. I think you're in the room next to mine, on the sleeper car?”

“There you are, punk, ran off on me and left me nearly trippin' over that old lady with the service dog-” his travel companion had sauntered up, a slight scowl on his handsome face that seemed to go with the way his lanky hair hung in his eyes... very different from his neatly combed friend beside her.

“I'm Steve, Steve Rogers,” the blonde said before shooting a _look_ at his friend. “And this example of fine manners is James Barnes.”

James sat heavily on the bench across from them and then shifted down. She'd thought she'd heard earlier him being referred to as Buck, but she didn't want to pry. Nor did she want to ask why James was wearing one glove. Some things you just didn't ask when you were on a train. Either the person was weird, or the story they'd tell you was boring, and you'd wish that you could escape back to your seat. Since she was going to be eating dinner with them, she didn't want to open up a can of worms.

“Don't listen to him, I am plenty mannered,” he said with a smirk, one of his knees brushing against hers. She raised an eyebrow and shifted back so they weren't touching. He grinned again and settled, but didn't try anything else. She was always a little wary of strange men on the trains, although most were polite. He seemed like a player, maybe, a flirt, but not likely to pursue unless she indicated interest, and after the last few months... well there was just no way she was going to _indicate_ anything to anyone, no matter how well built they were.

“Uh huh. Kay, well, I'm Darcy and I was just saying to Steve we're in the same sleeper car. Your room nice? I've never actually been in one of the big rooms before. Just the small bunk bed roommettes,” she rambled a little and then looked out the window.

“James' got the top bunk cause he's shorter,” Steve grinned as his friend rolled his eyes a little, “the room's great.”

“The shower isn't big enough for a cat,” James muttered and then picked up the menu, flipping it over. “So what're you travelling for, Darcy? All by yourself or you gotta friend along with? Maybe someone that could keep this guy-” he jerked his head towards Steve, “busy so you and I could get to know one another?” She felt Steve tense a little beside her at James' blatant flirtation but she just shook her head and snorted.

“Don't get too ahead of yourself,” she said, “I'm on my way home. I had a month off from work and wanted to travel a bit. The west coast train, the Starliner? Was really pretty. I haven't taken the Empire Builder out this way before, so it'll all be new. What about you guys? I'm guessing you're not, uh, together then-”

James barked out a laugh at that and shot a look at Steve, who was shifting a little in his seat. But when he spoke, Steve didn't quite answer her question, which she filed away in the back of her mind to wonder about... later. The big rooms came with a double bed on the bottom and a single bunk on top, and she'd watched enough hentai to know that two dudes together made quite the- she took a slow sip of water to quell that line of thought right there and then.

“Had some leave time. We both just finished up a job in Seattle and we wanted to see the sights on the way back home. We took the bus to Portland.”

“Filled to the rafters with damn hipsters and men that dress like woodsmen, but you know they 'aint never seen the business end of an axe,” James said under his breath. Steve shot James another look that seemed to say _settle the fuck down_ , one that Darcy recognized since Erik had used it so often on Jane.

“Can I take your orders please? Also I'll need your room numbers and car numbers on your order sheets please,” the waiter had come over and was putting down glasses of cold water for each of them. Darcy quickly looked at the menu, having been a bit too distracted by the man meat sandwiching her into the booth seat to make a decision.

“I'll take the steak,” James said, “with the mash on the side?” Steve hummed a little and ordered the same, and both men and the waiter turned to look at her.

“Uh, veggie lasagna?” she asked-not-stated and the waiter nodded before grabbing up their order sheets and walking off.

“You one of them vegetarian save-the-earth hippies, then?” James asked, leaning in across the table, and the look on his face made the simple question somehow _more_. Like if he asked her the right thing, she'd tell him everything right down to her social security number, her waist measurement, and her bank account pin number.

“Don't be an ass, Barnes,” Steve said darkly beside her and James just shook his head, flicking his hair out of his eyes like he'd damn-well practiced that move, and sat back with a grin.

“What? I'm just curious. You told me the train was all about gettin' to see things, and meet people. And I'm seein' things and I'm meetin' people. 'Aint that right, Darce?” he grinned at her, all shit-eating and smug, as Steve sighed out, clearly asking for patience from some higher power.

“It's Darcy,” she said, and would have put him in his place when their food arrived, steaming plates set down in front of them. She fell quiet as they ate, watching the two men banter back and forth, until James finally sat up a little and threw his napkin down.

“I'm gonna go _relieve_ myself,” he said. “See you for that wine tasting, Steve? In the lounge car? Wouldn't wanna miss that. Wine tasting. _Fancy_.” The sarcasm was thick in his voice as he stood and then sauntered to the end of the car. Steve let out a breath and turned to her.

“Look I'm really sorry... he's had a tough time in the past few- well, in the last while and he's a bit rough around the edges,” he said and she smiled at the earnest apology in his face.

“Don't worry about it. It's just a train ride. I'm gonna hole myself up in my room for the rest of the trip and get ready for work when I get home. I probably won't even see you guys again, so really... yeah. It's fine.” She speared one last carrot on her fork and popped it into her mouth.

“Well,” Steve said and then he shifted a little, almost uncertain, “if you change your mind or anything... I gotta deck of cards, and James won't play me anymore, so if you're bored or somethin'...” he trailed off and looked down at his plate, hands in his lap and she was struck by how suddenly shy he seemed.

“That sounds nice,” she answered quickly, not wanting to make him even more uncomfortable. It wasn't fault his friend was an asshole, and didn't appreciate how clearly excited his _heterosexual life partner_ was to be riding the rails. “They do a nature talk too, on the trip?” she offered, “If you want to, you could come to that with me. And they show movies in the club car too. I always thought it was a waste to spend train time watching a movie, but it's a part of the whole _train_ experience, so I'm up for it if you are.” A slow smile spread across his face as she spoke and it felt right, like she'd bought girl scout cookies, or helped a cat down from a tree. _Your good deed for the day, Darcy,_ she thought.  _Saving a really hot guy from his really hot asshole bestie. Such a sacrifice you've made for the good of humanity._

“Yeah. Look, I'm gonna go find him and box his ears or somethin', but I'll come knockin' on your door, room 14 right?” He slipped out of the booth, ducking his head a little as he went so he wouldn't hit it on one of the lights that hung down.

“Yeah, right,” she said. He gave her an awkward half wave and then turned, walking away. She looked back down at her empty plate and tried not to wonder how he went from comfortable and confident in his own skin to shy and awkward a few seconds later. It was cute, sweet even, but she wanted to ignore the flutter in the pit of her stomach. She didn't need that kind of complication right about then.

“Dessert, dear?” the waiter asked, startling Darcy out of her reverie, and she picked up the menu. She was going to need a lot of sugar to get through the next two days.


	2. Chapter 2

Stuffed full and curled up in her bunk hours later, she forgot about not needing complications. As soon as she'd gotten back from dinner, Darcy had put the two chairs down, forming the bottom bunk, then made up her bed with the extra mattress and linens that were stored on the upper bunk. The sheets were just on the soft side of crisp, and perfect when she pulled her bra off, leaving it on the floor, and squirmed out of her jeans and underwear. The overlong shirt she was wearing hit just below mid-thigh, enough to make it acceptable for a family-friendly train ride where swearing was frowned on (a fact been politely made aware of her second day riding the rails by the nice lounge car attendant, apparently with the plethora of kids running around, Amtrak had made cursing like your daddy _verboten_ ). Then she'd slid between the sheets, curling under the light but warm blanket, and settled back into the nest of pillows she'd made for herself with a happy little sigh.

_Fuck Ian_ , she thought, curving on her side to look the window as the dark countryside passed, lit up only by the lights from the cars and the odd settlement or town. The pit of sick that had been roiling in her stomach for the past few weeks settled, the train was a little rockier than the ones she'd been on before, but it suited her nicely, lulling her into a comfortable doze.

A knock at her door frame startled her awake, and she slapped a hand to her face to fix her glasses, pushing them back up her nose where they'd slipped down. Without thinking she slipped half out of bed and reached, flicking the security latch up and sliding the door open.

Steve Rogers stood there, just out in the hall, one hand shoved in his pocket like he wasn't quite sure, and her mouth went a little dry. _Damn_ , she thought and then realized her shirt was riding up her bare thigh and she yanked the sheets up her body.

“Uh, sorry, oh my god- hey... how's tricks?” she asked, trying to be casual, _be cool be coolbecoolbecool_ , and fuck everybody ever, but he blushed, a warm pink flood sprawling across his cheeks and nose.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“No, you're fine-”

They both inhaled, a little sharp, and she laughed first.

“I was napping, I guess,” she said, running a hand over her forehead and through her hair.

“I can see that,” he offered, a slight hint of a flirt in his voice, and then he bit her lower lip and everything down south went a little electric.

“Cards?” she asked, trying to break the weird _hey I'm not wearing anything but a shirt, and there you are, all angles and muscles under that too-tight cotton blend that should really be illegal_ moment.

“Ah, yeah, that'd be, that'd be good.”

She shifted a little under her sheet and she swore that he gulped down a breath of air, eyes dropping to where her legs moved under the sheet, his hand gripping hard around the aluminum door frame. Darcy'd had enough regrets from the past two months to last her twenty one years, and as she looked up at him and his _aw shucks_ expression, she made up her mind that this wasn't going to be one of them. Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, and she was pulling him down and in, twisting herself on the mattress until both feet hit the carpeted floor of her little bunk. Steve, to his credit, didn't balk, letting her draw him in even though she could see the uncertainty on his face, a little hope, a little confusion, like he wanted it to be real but didn't know how to ask. That was fine. She could do the telling for him.

His mouth hit hers, and she backpedalled for a second as his lips took her breath from her, that maybe she was a little outclassed and he'd do the telling. Steve's hand went to her shoulder, big and mitt-like and warm as it slid around the back of her neck, his thumb resting in the small divot right at the base of her head and she shivered. Definitely outclassed, but she was a quick learner, because fuck Ian and every inch of his memory. A million little butterflies erupted from her stomach into her chest as she asked herself what the hell she was doing and gave herself permission to lean backwards as he stepped into the small room, looming over her and still kissing, always still kissing her like he needed it to _breathe_.

They finally came apart for one moment, and he looked at her with the most unsure- heart breaking expression on his face like he wanted to ask for it, but didn't want to be selfish, because damn they'd had all of one meal together. Darcy Lewis hadn't been captain of the bad decisions and sudden impulses club in high-school for no reason though, and she grabbed his forearm and used it to press his hand over the glass of the door behind him, making him slid it shut hard. The safety latch locked immediately and he looked at it before his eyes shot back to her, the raw anticipation and need in his gaze swamping her with heat. He opened his mouth and she pressed her three fingers to his lips, feeling his hot breath against her skin.

“If you're about to do the right thing, please don't,” she said, hearing the _holy hell turned on smoke voice_ in her own words. He gave a short, sharp nod and yanked the privacy curtain over the door, hand slapping down on the velcro tabs so it would stay private, and then turned back to her like she was the sun and he was the cold, hungry earth after a long winter. His knee hit the mattress and he kicked himself out of his boots _one-two_ , moving over her as she shifted and settled on the sheets until he was right over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders, knees on either side of her hips. The sheer weight of him bit in hard to the mattress, pushing her up into his space a little, and then he bent and kissed her.

It was the rare dude who could get her hot just from a few kisses, but something about _gee whiz Steve Rogers, ma'am_ , pressed every button for her, because her elbow was digging into the sheets to push her up into his orbit as her other arm slid around the backs of his shoulders so she could pull him down. He resisted though, spine made of iron, keeping the distance between them as he just kissed her, lips brushing at hers until she was shivering from it, shivering in the too small room despite the fact it was just a little too warm. It was completely irresponsible of her to hook up with a guy she'd spent _maybe_ thirty minutes with, but when he finally lowered himself to lay on top of her, she couldn't find it in her to care. Instead she rolled her hips up into the space where his thighs gripped hers., barely moving from his almost-too-much weight, and listened to the way his breath caught in his throat and turned into a low growl.

“You got enough room?” she managed to ask as the ghost of a shudder ran through her muscles, feeling how warm he was, the crotch of his jeans rubbing into the thin cotton that just barely covered the lady-goods. _Fuck yes_ , she thought, the worst part about breaking up with a boyfriend was regular access to good or at least familiar sex, and she'd never gone long _without_ , so to speak, had very much enjoyed having a string of boyfriends through college. Steve didn't answer, just pulled his hips off of hers, his hands wrapping around the outside of her thighs and pulling her knees apart to make space so he could sink down between them. She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, as he kissed his way down the tender lines of her throat.

His fingers, long, calloused, _blunt-ended_ , pushed the shirt up her thighs and past her hips. She heard and felt him exhale slowly, knew without a doubt he was looking at her, those blue eyes of his drinking her in as he inched the soft cotton up the curve of her stomach. There was something insanely hot about being bared from the waist down against a guy who was fully dressed, and she tried not to squirm her hips up against his, but failed. He caught her in his hands, his head bending to mouth over her breast through her shirt, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the loud noise that escaped her.

“Hell yes,” she mumbled into her fingers, closing her eyes as his teeth scraped over one nipple, the fabric dulling the sensation until it was just warm, wet pressure that did nothing to help how damp she was getting down south. A fact that Steve was rapidly becoming aware of as his hand curved around her thigh and his knuckles brushed up against her folds. Her hips jerked, hitching up against him, and he _chuckled_ , the rat bastard, laughing against her chest as he touched her again, knuckles working into her, twisting and grinding until she was helplessly making muffled noises into her hand, breathing stressed and huffing out. His fingers and thumb sprawled out, spreading her flesh, teasing across her wet skin, and it wasn't enough to get her to her destination, but it was definitely helping her along the way.

Darcy struggled to keep quiet under his slow touches, was very aware of the world outside the little space the occupied, but two of his fingers traced a line down her center and slid up and in, and she couldn't help but to cry out. He looked up at her, his previously neatly-ordered hair falling in his face, searching her expression for anything close to pain, but she just shook her head and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him close. He rested his head against her shoulder, fingers sliding through her slick folds, in and out, her hips arching up as much as they could to meet him, her breath catching with each push _in_ because his hands were just perfectly big, and right, curving right where she wanted it and _holy fuck_ -

A single bang on the door made them both jerk, eyes wide and locked on one another, and she whined out a noise as her orgasm skittered away, muscles clenching down on his invading fingers fruitlessly as everything went sideways. She wanted to cry. Or bite something. The bang came again, twice this time.

“Steve? You in there?” came the very unwelcome voice of one James _go fuck yourself_ Barnes, and Steve groaned softly, sliding his fingers out of Darcy and making her wince at the sudden retreat.

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said, just a touch loud enough to make it through the door. Darcy could _feel_ the smug shit-eating grin right through the privacy curtain and the glass, coming in waves off of _thatfuckingasshole_ ,

“Stop makin' time with your girl, we got wine tasting. I'll see you upstairs. Wear your nice jacket, I'm not enjoying this unless we're both uncomfortable.” His footsteps stomped off after that.

Steve looked down at her, tilting his head a little by way of apology, the question written all over his face like _can I stay?_ She swallowed hard and squirmed, pushing at his shoulders, her cheeks burning like a wild fire. He reluctantly sat up, and she immediately scrambled back against her pillows, curling her knees against her chest and pulling her shirt down over them to her toes. Every regret poured through her as she studiously focused on the inches of mattress between her and him.

“Well-”

“I'm-”

They both paused and she bit her lip. His hands dropped into his lap and he sighed, long and low.

“I guess I better get up to that wine tasting,” he muttered, and she snuck a look at him before making to grab her phone and check her messages. He caught her wrist in his hand, gently, and pulled it towards his face, forcing her to look up at him. There was something sincere, a kindness there in the look he was giving her, that could only come from him being a much better person than she was, cross and irritated that a shit bag friend had interrupted a perfectly good fingerfucking with an almost-stranger. She wanted to ask him to stay, but didn't want to be desperate. Besides, she soothed herself, she'd brought her trusty lip-stick vibe along for the ride, and it was totally charged up and waiting to go.

“I'm not your girl,” she finally said, when he didn't move, and didn't say anything. “You make sure you tell him that,” she sniffed and looked away again. He dropped her hand, and despite that there was mere inches between them, it felt like the space opened up and threatened to swallow her.

“Who's girl are you then?” Steve asked, a hint of confusion and definitely, given the lump fighting the crotch of his denim, frustration colouring his voice. Her eyes flicked to his face and she nodded at the door.

“My own. Go enjoy the wine. The Cali vineyard samples are the best. I'll be here when your friend wants to continue his impression of an asshole.” She regretted her words, and the sting behind them, when his face fell like an imploding building. She didn't wince though, not when he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, and not when he stood up and flicked the latch open, sliding the curtain and the door down so he could get out.

“Darcy-” he started, then stopped, and he tried a half-hearted smile that came out more awkward and helpless. She rolled her eyes.

“Look I'm sorry I'm a bitch. I get a little grumpy when my lady-business is interrupted. Go drink your wine, and come back, okay? That'd be nice. You're hot, and stuff, and life is short, I don't have time for regrets. So just... go make him happy, because he seems to need it or whatever,” she said with a slow sigh and he nodded, and looked over his shoulder down the hall. Whatever he saw, or didn't see, seemed to motivate him though, because he bent back into her room, one hand pinning her to the pillows and he kissed her _hard,_ hungry, and she could feel his frustration at being interrupted, like a promise that he was absolutely going to wreck her later. She shivered and clung to the edges of the mattress, fingers wrapping on tight to anchor herself down as his tongue did filthy things to hers, totally not in keeping with his adorable _golly gee whiz willikers_ boy scout look.

He finally pulled away when she moaned, and she almost didn't suppress the unhappy whine that threatened to crawl out of her lungs.

“I'm comin' back,” Steve breathed out, fingers flexing on the edge of the door, “and we, are gonna, we are gonna get to know each other a little bit better.” He smiled then, and her heart stopped, because she wanted to ask _a little better than you being two down and three to go?_ but stopped herself from being too crass. Because nothing about this situation was totally dirty and slutty in the best ways already.

“Right, I'll... I'll be here,” she said, squeezing her knees into her chest to stop the shiver.

“Right,” he said, and then he _gosh darned_ saluted her with a mocking wink, slid her door shut, and walked the fuck off. She pulled the privacy curtain across and collapsed back against her pillows, feeling frustrated, and at the same time a little thrilled. Getting interrupted had been awful, but it meant he had a reason to come back. That, at least, was a silver lining, enough to comfort her as she stretched out for a well-earned evening nap. She determinedly settled down and drifted off, not wanting to ask herself _why_ the thought of him coming back made her heart thrum more than than anything else.

  



	3. Booster Engine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Knew you didn't have it in you to seal the deal," Bucky teased, lazy fingers wrapping around the first taster. "Girl like that's too much woman for you. Should've left her to me, like old times when I broke the path for you to follow." Steve elbowed him lightly in the ribs, startling a laugh out of his best friend and sometimes lover.
> 
> "I put a bookmark in it," Steve said, "so don't mind me if I'm late tonight."

Steve had to admit that Bucky was right. Trying to fit into the shower was something of an adventure. Attempting to dry himself off using one of Amtrak's small towels had been a second adventure, especially when combined with the constant rocking motion of the train and the mental gymnastics it took not to just slide Darcy's door open and press the girl into the mattress, wine tasting be damned. Wiping drops of water off of his face, Steve looked in the mirror, searching for the good sense and sanity that had seemingly fled him thirty minutes prior in the girl's berth.

 _Ravaging a gal you just met, Rogers?_ He thought, running a comb through his slick hair with a sigh. Nat would be proud, or amused. Probably both. She'd said that holding  _it_ in was a bit like Bruce denying his anger a home in his mind. Eventually you didn't have a choice when your urges were going to break through to the surface.

With another long-suffering sigh he buttoned up his shirt, tucking it into his waistband, and brushed the heel of his hand over his groin.  _Down_ , he thought, totally not letting his fingers linger too long as he tried to not focus on the gentle curves and the sleepy girl who owned every inch of them, just mere feet away. A pane of glass and a sheet separated him from her slick warmth, and he heaved out a slow breath, the kind that Erskine had drummed into him to keep calm when he'd been put in the chamber. He needed every ounce of that self control.

 _That's what you get when you spend all your time out of the ice pretending to be a boy scout_ , he could practically hear Nat murmur in his ear. He smiled ruefully at his reflection and left the room to make his way to the lounge car. Bucky was waiting for him, hair neatly combed back from his face as he stood at the bar, charming the blonde bartender who was setting out the slender wine tasting cups on the countertop. Bucky caught Steve's eye and winked knowingly--  _asshole--_ in that sly clever way of his, sending heat to Steve's cheeks and straight to his restless groin for two very separate reasons. He'd been on the receiving end of Bucky's look too many times to count, mostly after successful forays into enemy territory and the short rough tumble together in Bucky's bunk when they'd returned safely to camp. Steve shook his head and Bucky's smug look broke into a wide grin.

"Home run there, punk?" Bucky asked as Steve bellied up to the bar beside him. Steve grunted under his breath.

"Ah..." He swallowed his words, a snappish reply that Bucky  _knew damn well_ what did and did not happen, not wanting to give him any more ammunition against the poor girl, and, considering Steve was still needing to plan out his next strategic move where Darcy was concerned, he didn't want Bucky to have a way to mess it up. Maybe this was some twisted karmic payback for all the inadvertent pre-serum cockblocking Steve had committed when he'd been too sickly for Bucky to want to risk a night over at a girl's place.

"Knew you didn't have it in you to seal the deal," Bucky teased, lazy fingers wrapping around the first taster. "Girl like that's too much woman for you. Should've left her to me, like old times when I broke the path for you to follow." Steve elbowed him lightly in the ribs, startling a laugh out of his best friend and sometimes lover.

"I put a bookmark in it," Steve said, "so don't mind me if I'm late tonight." Bucky choked a little on his wine, raising an eyebrow at Steve before grinning broadly into his glass.

"Wouldn't mind if you'd pass it on to me when you're done. Could use a good book to plow through right about now," Bucky leaned into Steve's space and murmured, as their blonde bartender spoke with a few other passengers. Steve felt heat flush up his neck and onto his cheeks again and he tried to glared at Bucky.

"Some books aren't for lendin'," he growled, but felt caught out in Bucky's hot look. "Damn," he muttered as he looked away. Their bartender returned, and Bucky moved to put his good hand on the counter, fingers curving around the back edge as he flirted with her. She may have been a veteran of the rails, but James Barnes at his best was nigh irresistible to most of the opposite sex regardless of age, and a good portion of the same sex as well. The woman was no exception, and despite Bucky's bad behavior earlier, Steve was glad to see the train ride was seemingly restoring quite a bit of the man's old personality... a private hope and driving reason behind Steve's insistence they take the train back to New York. It made him a little smug that he'd been right... the train was just old fashioned enough to be a comfort to Bucky, and just novel enough to not have stirred up terrible train-related memories for the dark haired man.

A giggle interrupted his thoughts, and he looked over to see Bucky with his fingers buried in the blonde's hair behind her ear. Well, the other sleeper car passengers had left the lounge, so he supposed the bartender could get away with a little impropriety. He savored the last wine sampler in front of him and clapped a hand gently on Bucky's shoulder.

"I'll leave you two to it," he said with a grin that matched Bucky's. The girl had the grace to blush and Steve smiled at her, not unkindly. "Don't let this jerk charm you too much, he's got a heart of gold but has a little trouble with the follow through if you catch my meaning," he teased as Bucky's grin morphed into a sullen scowl.

"Don't listen to Steve, doll," he drawled as Steve chuckled and made his way out of the rocking car. "And don't forget to leave that book on my bed," Bucky called after him. Steve just shook his head as he could hear Bucky's voice fall low and husky as he tried to regain lost ground. Steve's own mind was on something else entirely, and he found himself outside Darcy's door in moments, holding his breath and feeling a nervous thrum in his chest. It was so much like how he'd felt decades prior when Bucky had first pressed heated kisses down the side of his neck in their ratty, rundown apartment in Brooklyn. It didn't make any sense, he'd been with lots of girls-  _women_ \- the USO dames had given him a thorough education to fill in all the blanks that Bucky had left, and even pre-serum there'd been more than one girl in their neighborhood that would make time with him despite or because of Bucky's perpetual presence in Steve's life. The two boys had lived in each other's pockets, and girls on the street knew that the way to either of their hearts was in the hands of the other.

For a moment he considered taking two steps to his room, but the choice was out of his hand when the door slid open to reveal Darcy standing there. She blinked in surprise, and he did too as he'd been too busy wool gathering to hear the noise of her moving around inside her berth. His gaze fell to the towel under her arm and then the sleep shirt that brushed the tops of her knees. He felt a flush crawl down the back of his neck again as he pulled his eyes back up, finding the light dusky pink bruise in the shape of his mouth that curved along her jaw under her ear. He'd never considered himself a possessive man, had shared a lady or two with Buck, and a few of the other commandos as well, but he'd always had a thing for visible marks on his partners, like little love notes he'd left for them to find later.

"Steve," she said after they sized each other up for a few breaths, "I was just going to have a shower." His mind flicked back through the day, trying in vain to put a wrench in her plans, and find some reason to capture her attention long enough to soothe the aching need in the pit of his stomach.

"Uhm, shower's broken, or out of service, the attendant told us that earlier," he said and motioned to his room. "Did you want to use ours?"

Darcy looked uncertain but then smiled, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck with a sigh. "That'd be nice," she said, and kissed him slowly, lips spreading across his as his eyes blinked shut. Damn if the girl wasn't just the sweetest kisser, and his arms moved around her waist to pull her against his chest tightly. "I could wait," she breathed out as they broke apart, scant inches between them in the narrow hallway. She looked to the door to his room and then up at him. "We could-"

"Yeah," he answered quickly, "yes," and reached out to open his door, motioning for her to go ahead of him. He followed her inside and slid the door shut, latching it behind him. He didn't care if the damn train was on  _fire_ , he wasn't opening that door for Bucky or anybody else this time.

Darcy turned to look at him, standing in front of the bottom bunk that had been pulled down by their attendant while he'd been off tasting wine and trading barbs with Bucky. He was grateful, then, that they'd gotten the room, with it's double bed on the bottom, room enough for two people as long as both weren't super soldier-sized. Steve definitely had ideas for that bed, mainly involving her back hitting the sheets, and him moving over her and  _into her-_

"So, uh," she said, sounding a little nervous. He stepped into her space without thinking, sliding his fingers into her hair and around the back of her head as he leaned down to kiss her again. Her knees bent and he followed her down,  her backside hitting the edge of the mattress, thighs slipping apart to make space for him. His knees thunked down onto the floor between hers, still clinging to her, hand fisting in her hair. Darcy moaned, tilting her head down to keep her mouth on his, tongue flicking out and teasing over his lower lip. She was clever with her kisses, he'd give her that, not hesitant except in the right ways, the touch of them brushing over his mouth, and then his jaw. He closed his eyes, slipping and sliding his fingers down the back of her neck and over her shoulders, feeling the heave of her breath as his hands smoothed down her decolletage. "Um," she whispered against his neck, and his lips tugged up in a smile, enjoying fully that his touch had apparently robbed her of the ability to form a sentence.

With a low whine that sounded anything but turned on, she pushed at him with the palms of her hands urgently, and his eyes popped open, focusing on her face. She was gazing past him, over his shoulder. His stomach dropped as he realized what was distressing her. The curtain. He'd left the  _damn curtain open_ , because he was ten kinds of idiot, and not worth the woman currently squirming nervously in his arms. Steve's head dropped to her shoulder and he sighed, closing his eyes.

"He's watchin' us?" He finally asked, knowing who she was staring at without her having to say it.

"Yep," she replied, still squirming. Steve swallowed and got up the guts to look over his shoulder at the soon to be  _incorporeal_  Winter Soldier. Bucky had his hand pressed against the glass, fingers tapping on it lightly, smirking for damn  _days_ , his eyes clearly saying  _I'm a fucking shitface that fucks up all your shit, Steve, and I love it_. With a growl, Steve got to his feet, hearing Darcy shift behind him, and he willed her mentally not to go, because he would be damned if he let his partner mess that up for him again. Bucky must've seen the pure fiery rage on Steve's face, because the man stepped back from the door, and even had the grace to look a little guilty when Steve slid it open with a loud  _crack_.

"Hey, Stevie, I was uh, wondering-" Bucky couldn't finish his sentence because Steve grabbed him by the shoulder, his flesh'n'blood one, and pulled him inside, hard. He knew, from the look on Buck's face, the set of his shoulders, what the other man wanted so badly he couldn't even  _ask_ for it, and the reason behind him constantly doggin’ Steve’s heels and haunting his shadow was sitting on the bed with pretty lips and smoky eyes and curls that begged to be sprawled across the sheets.

Behind him, the object of his desire got up. He heard the towel unfold, heard it hit the bed, followed by the soft noise of a long t-shirt slithering along skin before joining the towel. Bucky's breath caught in his throat, his chest surging up under Steve's hand as he stared past him.

"I'm gonna have a shower while you two have your lover's spat about which one of you gets to be in the middle," Darcy drawled, making Steve's stomach tighten hard at the heavy implication in her words, the heat of her voice -  _did she just-_ his brain shorted out and circled around, "because I'm not gonna be tugged around like a piece of jerky between two men big enough to snap me in half."

He turned, still clinging to Bucky as he moved, but more to keep himself upright than to haul him around. Both men stared as Darcy crossed the small space, opened up the door to the shower with her back to them and lifted her hand behind her, up up up along her spine. Clever fingers unsnapped the clasp of her bra and the black and purple lace confection slid down her shoulders. Steve could feel the heat off her skin, even several feet away, wanted to feel it, wanted to trace his fingers down her back, find where she was ticklish, where he could touch to get her to make soft noises into the skin of his shoulder- he felt Bucky's hand dig into his wrist, clinging to him right back as her thumbs hooked into the sides of her panties and scooted them down her thighs. They landed on the bland, blue Amtrak carpeting to curl around her toes.

"  _Fuck_ ," Bucky muttered softly beside him.

"Behave yourselves," she admonished finally over her shoulder with a wink. The door snapped shut behind her as she stepped into the shower. Steve let go of the breath he was holding.

"Well," Bucky said, wry grin sprawling across his face, "I always said that taking the train was a good idea. Shoulda listened to me sooner, Stevie."


End file.
